


By Order Of The King

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle Scenes, Drinking, Father-Son Relationship, Gift Fic, M/M, Mirkwood, My Slashy Valentine, Sexual Content, Slash, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haldir, a young warden sent to train with Thranduil’s guard, soon discovers that Mirkwood isn’t like the other elven realms, and that its king is just as unusual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Guard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IgnobleBard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnobleBard/gifts).



> _Thranduil does not approve of Tauriel for Legolas. Who does he think would be a good match for his son? Use your imagination, a canon character or an OC, it's all good. If you could work in a fight with the spiders somewhere that would be great. And I like Tauriel, so there's no need to trash her._
> 
> This wonderful request gave me a chance to play with my three favorite characters again, and boy did I have a ball doing it. In portraying Thranduil I relied quite heavily on the Jackson version this time around. Needless to say, this is a standalone story and not part of the Pilgrim series. I hope that the recipient will be pleased with my humble offering, and that others will enjoy it too!
> 
> Beta: Spiced Wine

Despite its being an underground lair, it could not be denied that the stronghold of the Mirkwood elves was a remarkably fair and welcoming place, and that - like the Hidden Valley and the Golden Wood - it had a charm of its own entirely. When he traveled from Lothlórien a few months earlier, Haldir had expected to find his northern kin living in lamentable circumstances, forced to hide away in a dark and dank realm of cavernous halls hewn from the living rock, where neither fresh air nor daylight reached. How he had underestimated their resourcefulness! These Silvan elves had devised clever ways to guide sunlight into all but the deepest places, using mirrors and gems and possibly a spell or two, while an intricate system of strategically placed channels and chimneys provided air circulation. Haldir had seen the stars reflected in an underground lake, its surface stirred to life by an autumn breeze.

He had also expected to encounter an austere and grim people, hardened by battle and ruled by a mad king, and on that count he had only been partially wrong. The elves of Mirkwood were deeply affected by the evil in the world, perhaps more so than any of their kind, and their warriors were without a doubt among the most deadly in Middle-earth. But when they feasted, they were no less merry than Haldir’s own people. As for King Thranduil-- though perhaps not quite mad, he was certainly as eccentric as he was formidable. It didn’t take long for Haldir to experience that firsthand.

In the Woodland Realm, the turning of the seasons was always cause for celebration, and tonight the elves of the wood had gathered to welcome a new winter with food, drink, music and dance. The hall was splendidly decorated, with garlands of winter flowers, crystal ornaments shaped like snowflakes and icicles, and a thousand twirling lanterns that cast their warm glow all around. Haldir strolled about the hall at leisure, believing himself to have strayed into an ancient lay such as minstrels sang. Everyone was dressed in their finest and smiling, and for a few hours at least, the darkness and all its perils were far away.

Most of these elves were strangers to him still. Over the course of the past month or two, he had spent most of his time training with the King’s Guard, which left few opportunities to socialize in other circles. He did however see some familiar faces in the crowd, recognizing Tauriel by her auburn hair. Unsurprisingly, she was in the company of several ellyn, all of whom appeared to be rivaling for her favour at the next dance. The king’s son was not among them, but it didn’t take long for Haldir to spot him. Legolas stood near one of the stone pillars that supported the hall’s vaulted ceiling, drinking from a cup and looking as though the vintage turned to vinegar in his mouth. His unhappiness was painfully obvious even to a newcomer like Haldir; he had the yearning, frustrated look of a young man suffering from love.

_“Haldir o Lórien.”_

Haldir turned to find one of the king’s sentries standing in front of him. Even tonight, the elf was armed and suited up as if for battle, and the lower half of his face was covered as usual. Haldir did not care for this aspect of the sentries’ attire; there was something discomfiting about it, and he heard himself responding with a slightly aloof, “I am he.”

“The king requests you.” The sentry turned without waiting for a response, giving Haldir no other option but to follow in confusion. He had spoken with Thranduil only once before, shortly after his arrival; since then he had seen him only from a distance. For all he knew the king had forgotten all about his existence, and now he was being summoned? What ever for?

As they approached the dais on which the king was seated, Haldir felt himself growing slightly anxious. He had frequent dealings with Celeborn and Galadriel, so he was not unused to speaking to those in positions of power, but Thranduil was particularly intimidating and unpredictable at the best of times. Tonight the regal Sinda was garbed all in brilliant white and silver; sprigs of mistletoe were twined into his woodland crown in honour of the new season, and the white jewels on his fingers sparkled like stars. In one hand he held the oaken staff of his sovereignty, its surface smoothed and polished by years of handling. Not a living soul seeing Thranduil tonight could dispute that this elf was born to sit on a throne. His ornate chair - the middle one of three - seemed carved to fit his body, and indeed it may well have been. The throne at his right hand was used by Legolas at certain ceremonial events, but the third was ever empty, and would remain so until the end of days. It was where Thranduil’s lady wife would have sat, were she still alive.

As he took position in front of the dais, Haldir reminded himself to be on his guard. Even without a ring of power, Thranduil was said to possess a particular kind of magic; he could weave a spell with words and instill in people the desire, even the need to please him. No one knew exactly how he did it, but he was very clear about the things he wanted and he usually got them in the end.

The king turned his icy blue eyes on the new guard. “Greetings, Haldir.” He had an incredible voice, deep and sophisticated as was befitting an elf of his stature, but it also possessed a silken smoothness which he could switch on and off as he pleased. It was the voice of a man who was used to his commands being obeyed without question, and Haldir did not doubt that braver warriors than him had stood on this very spot and trembled in fear.

He bowed respectfully. “Your Grace.”

“At ease.” Thranduil beckoned nonchalantly. “You may approach.”

Haldir climbed the steps of the platform slowly until he was almost at eye level with the king. He spread his feet and joined his hands behind his back, waiting politely for Thranduil to speak.

“I have not yet seen you dancing tonight,” Thranduil said in a conversational tone.

Haldir responded in kind. “I could say the same of you, Sire.”

“Dancing is for the lovers and the young. Since the queen was taken from us more than a thousand years ago, I have lost my liking for it. Calendir, a cup of wine for the Galadhel.” The command was meant for an elf standing behind the throne, who turned away to obey.

Haldir dared not refuse what was offered, so he took the cup and lifted it in salute. “To peace and prosperity.”

Thranduil nodded in approval. “Remind me, Haldir, how long have you been with us?”

“A little over two months, Your Grace.”

“And what instructions did your superiors give you when they sent you to visit my realm?”

Haldir shifted on his feet. It was clear that Thranduil wasn’t merely making conversation, but where this was going he could not tell. “They told me to offer you my sword, and to serve you loyally. To bleed for you if need be.”

“What else?”

“They specifically said that I should use the opportunity to learn from our fierce northern cousins, who are said to be more dangerous than they are wise.” Haldir hesitated. “With the exception of their king, who is both equally.”

Slowly Thranduil’s lips curved into a fiendish smile. “I believe you may prove an asset in many ways, Haldir of Lórien. I have heard nothing but good things from your mentors. You are an able archer and an even better swordsman, according to Legolas.”

“Your son is too generous in his praise. I am but a middling archer compared to him. His skill with the bow defies imagination.” This was not empty flattery. Legolas’s arrows flew where he meant them to fly, whether he was running, leaping or spinning, all with a confidence and effortless grace that made lesser archers throw up their hands in despair.

“Hmm. Am I right in concluding that the two of you have formed a rapport?”

“I…” The question caught Haldir off-guard. “I cannot speak for Legolas, but I like your son very much. I value his company greatly. In time, I think we could become good friends.”

“It pleases me to hear that. Legolas will need a friend in the time to come.”

Haldir frowned at these words. “What do you mean?”

“My son has inherited his mother’s gentle heart, a blessing and a curse all at once. I am concerned for what will happen when Tauriel fails to return his affections.” The king paused, studying Haldir with those eyes that could cut through steel. “I assume you have seen the signs of that ill-fated infatuation?”

Haldir nodded slowly. “He isn’t exactly subtle about it, Sire. But are you certain that Tauriel will reject him? She does seem to care about him a great deal.”

“As a friend, a brother in arms,” Thranduil said dismissively. “She has no interest in a romantic liaison, but more importantly, she knows I would never permit it. Evil is stirring, as sure as night must follow day. Soon war will be on our doorstep, and Tauriel is one of my best fighters. So is Legolas. I need them both focused and able to work together without being distracted by little hurts and feelings that have no place in battle. The sooner Legolas’s puppy love is a thing of the past, the better. I hope I can count on you to do your part.”

Haldir’s suspicion grew. “Which is…?”

“When Tauriel turns him down, Legolas will look for comfort, and I would have him find it with you. You have some experience with unrequited love, I trust. Listen to his woes, say what you must to lift his spirits, share his bed if he wishes. Word has it that you are skilled in the art of pleasure.”

Thranduil had said all this in a casual tone, but Haldir was utterly stunned. He quickly glanced at those within hearing distance - sentries, cupbearers - to see if their king’s words shocked them too, but no one moved a muscle. Perhaps they were used to Thranduil making outrageously inappropriate remarks-- or could he possibly have misheard? “I was not aware that my private life was subject of discussion,” he said stiffly. “Who shared that information?”

Thranduil smiled cryptically. “You are not the first Galadhel to visit my realm. When men are in their cups, they say more than they should.”

Haldir gnashed his teeth, not daring to press for a clearer answer. Thranduil was in charge of the conversation, and the king was not known for answering questions he deemed irrelevant. “So you wish to use me as a tool-- to procure me as a bedmate for your son? Think you so little of me, and of him?”

“You misjudge me,” Thranduil said calmly. “I love my son more than life itself; he is the most precious of gems in my kingdom. Sometimes, his smile is the only thing brightening my day, so as you may understand, his happiness is of paramount importance to me. And we would not be having this conversation if I didn’t think highly of you, Galadhel. You have character as well as beauty. In my younger days, now long gone, I might have bedded you myself.”

Haldir flushed. Thranduil’s lack of propriety was astounding, yet his earnest tone held a trace of sadness and regret that deflated Haldir’s anger. The Mirkwood king was a creature of great strength and fortitude, but the knowledge that sat on his brow was the result of a long, long life shaped by tragedy and loss. “Respectfully, Sire, I cannot do as you say. My conscience won’t permit it.”

Haldir’s muttered protests only seemed to amuse Thranduil. “I admire your spirit, Haldir. Very few of my subjects dare contradict me in such a manner. It is refreshing, and it proves that my instinct has not deceived me. You possess a rare quality, and I do not doubt that you will go far.”

“I am a warden only--”

“Not for much longer,” Thranduil cut in. “Do you think that your lord and lady habitually send young wardens to train with my guard? Nay, they want you to learn from my best because they are grooming you for a captainship.”

This revelation gave Haldir pause. “They told you this?”

“They didn’t need to tell me anything. My long years on this earth have made me an astute observer, and lately I have been observing you, though you may not have been aware of it. On several occasions I have seen you looking at my son in lust. Do not deny it, Haldir of Lórien, or I will know you for a liar.”

Face aglow, Haldir looked down. Thranduil’s manipulations left a bad taste in his mouth, and he knew that morally, he was in the right; why then did he feel so small, so dwarfed by Thranduil’s authority? “Still, you cannot give me such an order and expect me to obey. You have given me your hospitality and for that I am grateful, but I am not one of your stud stallions.”

Thranduil was smiling, unperturbed. “I would advise you not to cast aside my request so hastily. Winters in my realm are long, dark and cold; you may find the idea growing on you as time goes on.” Clearly not interested in hearing more objections from the flustered Galadhel, he gave a little wave with one of his ringed, long-fingered hands. “Now go and join the other young folk in the revelry. Dismissed.”


	2. For The Good Of The Realm

“Stay close behind me, Haldir. It isn’t much further. Be ready.”

Haldir nodded, blowing hot air into his cupped hands before following Tauriel down to a sturdier branch. Winter had the forest firmly in its grasp, but the Eldar did not feel the cold as other living creatures did, and Haldir’s heart was pumping adrenaline through his veins. He had joined the King’s Guard on rangings once or twice before, but this time they were truly going into the thick of it. This time they had been given orders to eradicate a large nest of spiders, orders that came directly from the king. Haldir was the only one of the company who had no experience fighting those foul creatures, but that was about to change. He was looking forward to dipping his sword in spider blood.

It had snowed the night before, so to avoid leaving tracks on the ground the elves had taken to the treetops. Surefooted even at great heights, they blended in seamlessly with the leafless trees in their uniforms of black and brown, and to perfect their camouflage they wore cowls that obscured their heads. They had left the safety of the halls early in the morning and been on the move ever since, pressing south silently and stealthily.

Scouts had reported back with the location of the nest and an estimation of the number of spiders, so they more or less knew what to expect. Since prey was scarce this time of year, it was likely that the creatures were particularly hungry and ill-tempered. With this in mind, Tauriel and Legolas had devised an attack strategy together; to carry out a synchronized attack, they had decided to split up into smaller groups and to approach the nest from different directions. Legolas would lead the charge from the north, while Tauriel’s group had circled around to move in from the south. The maneuver had taken them at least an hour; hunting spiders in itself was dangerous enough, but what made it even more tricky were the webs. The element of surprise was one of their key advantages , and they had to go slowly, very slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the silky nets that were everywhere.

Finally their goal came into view-- a cluster of five or six trees, almost completely encapsulated by webs and crawling with spiders. In the vicinity of the nest Haldir saw several spider carcasses, all of them completely picked clean. These monstrous arachnids were not above devouring their own kind to keep from starving, going for the weak and the young first. No doubt they would love to sink their fangs into a juicy elf, if they had the chance.

They crept closer until they could go no further without being discovered. “Everyone spread out, now,” Tauriel instructed quietly. “Bows at the ready. At my signal, shoot at will. Aim for the females first, if you can.”

Haldir need not be told why this was important. Not only were the females more vicious and more poisonous than their mates, they had the ability to breed very quickly. Any matriarch that got away could build a nest elsewhere, lay hundreds of eggs and start a new colony with her offspring. The objective today was to kill all spiders and destroy the eggs-- the king would not be content with anything less than that.

Once they were all in position and ready to launch their attack, Tauriel brought her hands to her mouth and called twice like a raven. Almost immediately came the answering call from the opposite direction, indicating that the ambush was laid. Haldir slowly put an arrow to the string, praying that his aim would be true today.

 _“Leithio i philinn!”_ Tauriel cried, and those three words unleashed a pandemonium of chaos and death. Arrows flew from all imaginable directions, spiders fell, but the creatures were fiendishly fast. Once they realized they were surrounded and under attack, they swarmed out to protect their nest and the eggs inside it. Haldir’s first three arrows struck true, but the fourth and fifth missed their target. Then the first spider was upon him and he had to switch weapons, a move he had practised since he was a scrawny lad and executed in battle countless times. Today, however, his hand was a fraction too slow, his grip not completely secure, and he almost dropped his sword. Before he could recover, an arrow whizzed past his ear and hit the spider right between the eyes.

“Too slow, Galadhel,” Tauriel called to him. “Pick up the pace, if you value your life.”

Thanking her would have to wait. More spiders were coming up behind their nest mates, and Tauriel led the charge, raising one of her long blades in the air. “For the king!” she cried, and many took over the call, Haldir included. Sword now firmly in hand, he slashed at webs to clear the way and thrust the blade into spiders left and right, not paying attention to gender now but simply fighting, killing to avoid being killed.

He had no idea how many lives he took, or how much time went by like this. One minute, maybe two, but it felt like hours. They were closing in on the nest, but the webs grew ever thicker, hindering their progress; once or twice, an elf got caught in the sticky threads and had to be cut free. Suddenly Haldir saw an unmistakable flash of blond hair in the corner of his eye. “Tauriel!” Legolas cried. “This side is clear. Do you need more swords?”

“Give chase, Legolas!” Tauriel called back. “They’re getting away, after them!”

Haldir turned and saw three or four spiders making their escape, including at least one female. Legolas started off after them, but at that very moment a spider attacked Tauriel from above, almost knocking her from her branch. Legolas’s reaction shocked everyone. Without a moment’s hesitation, he abandoned the chase and ran to her aid, throwing himself at the spider with a raw cry that gave Haldir cold shivers of foreboding. Tauriel, meanwhile, had regained her balance and lifted her knife hand to strike, but it was too late. The impact of Legolas’s attack sent the spider over the edge, and Legolas went with it. Together they plummeted to the ground, hitting several branches on the way down. By the time the sound of the final crash could be heard from below, Haldir felt physically ill.

Cursing loudly, Tauriel readied her bow and took aim, but Varion called to her, “ _Dartho_ , Tauriel! You don’t have a clear shot, you could hit the prince. Don’t risk it, or the king will know the reason why.”

Haldir was on his way down before Varion finished speaking, sliding and swinging down branches as swiftly as he could and praying to the higher powers that he wouldn’t find Legolas with a broken neck. As he came closer, he heard the unmistakable sounds of struggle and saw that beast and elf were locked in a deadly duel; the spider had Legolas on his back, pincers snapping mere inches from his face. Legolas no longer had his knife but fought all the more fiercely for it, landing punch after punch on the creature’s eyes and kneeing it in the belly.

Haldir landed lightly in the snow and ran, sword at the ready. Every fibre in his body was tuned to one single purpose, one single thought. _Not the king’s son. Please, not the king’s son._ Some of their companions were descending as well, but Haldir was quickest, and he shouted Legolas’s name to warn him. In the midst of chaos, there was a brief moment of eye contact, a look of understanding that passed between the two of them. Then Legolas rolled away and Haldir plunged the blade of his sword into the spider’s back, stabbing it over and over until he was sure the creature was dead. Three pairs of hands were needed to haul the heavy carcass away, and to everyone’s relief, Legolas emerged remarkably unscathed, with only a few bumps and bruises to show for his adventure. In no time at all he was back on his feet, laughing and acting as if nothing had happened.

When Tauriel arrived on the scene, however, Legolas’s bravado dissipated. “Tauriel, I’m--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut him off sharply. Her eyes were cold, her tone biting. “Do you have a death wish? What in Eru’s name were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“You were in danger--”

“I could have handled that situation. But _you_ completely lost sight of what was important up there. I gave you an order, Legolas, and you chose to disobey. Those spiders got away thanks to you.”

Legolas hung his head in misery. “I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll go after them.”

“No time for that now. It’ll be dark soon; we’ll make camp and wait for daylight.” Tauriel turned away. “Come on, I need all hands. Let’s gather up those eggs and burn them to a crisp, we’ll all feel better for it. I know I will.”

Legolas made to go after her with more apologies, but Haldir stopped him. “Let it go, Legolas. Out here she is your captain and not your friend. Whatever you say right now will only make things worse, so best say nothing.”

It took a joint effort to collect all the spider eggs, bring them down and pile them on a great heap, but by the time they were standing around their bonfire with the heat of the flames on their faces, Tauriel’s mood had improved considerably.

“A big day for you, Galadhel,” she said to Haldir. “You killed your first spider and saved the prince’s life all in one day. Now you may truly call yourself a man.”

Haldir smirked. “Any patrol that must deliver the tidings of the prince’s demise is not one I want to be part of. I fear your king too much.”

This elicited a round of laughter. “Don’t we all!” Thandor said. “I’d sooner face a Balrog than King Thranduil on a bad day, I know that much. His wrath is a fearsome thing to behold.”

Tauriel did not laugh. “Mirkwood is a harsh place, and a harsh environment breeds tough people. It is good that our king is feared; his reputation provides more protection than a thousand blades ever could.” She went to the carcass of the last spider, the one Haldir had killed, bent over it and cut off one of its fangs.

“Here is your trophy, Haldir,” she said as she handed him the keepsake. “You earned it today, bragging rights and all. Handle it carefully, there may be traces of venom. When we get home, you should take it to the alchemists and have them grind it into powder. The taste is foul, but if you sprinkle a small amount in a cup of wine, it can be stomached. It puts oak in a man’s cock.”

“How would you know this, Tauriel?” Maeghron said, laughing. Some of the others laughed as well, but Tauriel merely smiled enigmatically. Haldir glanced at Legolas, who was unusually quiet and had a greenish look about him, as if he were about to heave. Thranduil had had the truth of it, he realized now; Legolas’s feelings for Tauriel were causing a distraction, and it was putting them both at risk. The battle with the spiders could easily have ended in catastrophe. Today they’d had luck on their side, but luck had a way of running out eventually, even for princes. Haldir had not the slightest desire to find out what would happen when it did.

He tucked the spider fang safely away and stared into the flames. After the winter feast, he had tried his best to ban the conversation with Thranduil from his memory, but the day’s events had brought it all back into focus. Legolas had been needlessly reckless today, careless with his life. It was as if Thranduil had foreseen it. All joking aside, what would happen to Thranduil if his beloved son perished? Would the beacon of his strength still burn so brightly then, or would it gutter and go out, surrendering Mirkwood to darkness once and for all? It did not bear thinking about.

 _Is this what that cunning old king expects-- that I bed his son for the good of the realm?_ Haldir almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it, but from a purely physical standpoint, the temptation was undeniably there. If Legolas was half as athletic during bed play as he was in battle… Haldir gave himself a mental shake. Damn that king for putting thoughts in his head!

_I can try and talk to the lad, though. I’ve walked in his shoes once or twice. Might be all he needs is a sympathetic ear; if I can help, why wouldn’t I? As a friend?_

Haldir stared into the fire until his eyes watered and all that remained of the day’s spoils was a heap of smoldering embers.

“That was quite satisfying,” Tauriel said, shouldering her bow and quiver. “Now let’s find a place to make camp and get some nourishment. When daylight returns, we’ll continue our hunt. Today those spiders eluded us, but tomorrow, I intend for us to have the last laugh.”


	3. A Bad Habit

After five days of pursuit the hunters returned home weary, cold and frustrated. They had not found the elusive spiders despite having followed their tracks south as far as they could, to the very borders of their territory, until the peril grew too great and they had to turn back, defeated. They were all disappointed, but none more so than Legolas, who wore his guilt like a millstone around his neck. Even Tauriel seemed to feel sorry for him, though she had not yet forgiven him for his part in the spiders’ escape.

“Take some rest, all of you,” she told them before they went their separate ways. “We’ll meet again for training the day after tomorrow. I’m off now to report to the king. We were supposed to return days ago, so no doubt he’ll have some questions.”

“Let me come with you,” Legolas pleaded. “You’re not the one who deserves being yelled at.”

“I’m captain of the guard,” Tauriel replied matter-of-factly. “The end responsibility lies with me. Besides, I don’t fear your father. Whatever he decides to throw at me, I can take it.”

With that Tauriel strode off, and the group disbanded. Only Legolas remained, as did Haldir, who was racking his brain for some comforting words, a nugget of wisdom that he could offer. All he could come up with was, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Legolas. There will be many more hunts to come.”

“I’ll never have a chance with her now,” Legolas said mournfully. “The way she’s been looking at me these past couple of days… How could I have been so stupid?”

“We all make mistakes,” Haldir said. “It may take a while, but she will forgive you, I’m sure of it.”

Legolas managed a watery smile. “I am less certain, but your optimism is comforting all the same.” He sighed and turned to face Haldir more fully. “I have been so distracted by all this that I haven’t even thanked you yet for saving my life.”

“There is no need to thank me. One day you may have to return the favour.”

“That may well be. Still, no act of bravery should go unacknowledged.” Legolas’s face brightened somewhat. “I have an idea. If you give me an hour of your time, I’ll prove to you that I am not ungrateful. There is something I’d like you to see.”

Haldir smiled. “You make me curious, Legolas.”

“Come on then. We have to take a little walk.”

They made a stop at the armory to deposit their weapons, receiving two hand-held lanterns in return. Then, with Legolas leading the way, they set off. At first it was easy going, but after a while the paths grew narrower, the stairs more rudimentary and above all, slippery. Haldir asked no questions, but he noticed that they were going ever further down, always keeping close to the river. Once or twice they passed a waterfall that sprayed fine rain upon their faces. They turned left and right a hundred times and passed through grottoes that Haldir had never seen before. Every now and then, Legolas paused to consult the various symbols that had been carved into the walls. They were elvish symbols, but to Haldir they made no sense. The further they traveled into the belly of the realm, the clearer it became that people could get truly lost in here, possibly even die of starvation before finding a way out of this maze. It was a chilling thought.

“You’re very quiet, Haldir,” Legolas remarked after they had gone for about twenty minutes. “I hope you’re not having any regrets about this?”

“Not at all, I assure you,” Haldir replied. “These surroundings don't lend themselves to idle chat, but I am enjoying the tour so far.”

“That's good, but the best is yet to come. In just a few minutes, you will be amply rewarded for your trust.”

After a few more twists and turns and a particularly narrow corridor they had to squeeze through, Haldir suddenly found himself standing in a wide cave. The only light in here was that of their lanterns, but the air he inhaled was cool and fresh, and he could hear the distant roar of the river somewhere overhead. Then he saw them, appearing from the gloom: dozens, hundreds of stalactites and stalagmites in just as many bizarre forms and shapes. “Moon and stars,” he whispered.

“We discovered this cave only a few months ago.” Legolas, who was a few steps ahead, turned around. “You are probably the first Galadhel to see it.”

“It’s… wondrous.” As Haldir slowly moved his lantern around, the limestone formations seemed to change form and colour, but these were just tricks of the light. This was a place sculpted by nature over thousands and thousands of years, a place untouched by people, hidden deep within the earth. The eerie beauty of it struck a chord deep within him. “I had heard caves like this existed, but to see one with my own eyes is more than I could have hoped for.”

“Sadly, this is about as far as we can go,” Legolas said. “We suspect the cave is much deeper, but exploring it would cause irreparable damage, and we can only stay ten to fifteen minutes at a time. The formations are so fragile-- just our being here with our lanterns could be harmful.”

Treading carefully, Haldir ventured a little further until he was side by side with Legolas. He gazed around in reverent silence for several minutes, humbled by nature’s artistry. Some formations were smaller than his smallest finger, others had fused together over time and formed pillars taller than three or four men standing on each other’s shoulders. Haldir let the moment solidify in his memory, knowing that it would stay with him as long as he lived. “Why did you bring me here, Legolas?” he asked eventually. “I am grateful that you did, but… why me, why today?”

“I don’t know.” Legolas frowned slightly, as if searching for the answer within himself. The combined light from their lanterns reflected gently off of the planes of his face, which bore more than a passing resemblance to his father's. “Perhaps… perhaps because you are not from here. Perhaps I wanted you to see there is beauty in these caves.”

The prince’s self-conscious smile turned Haldir’s insides to mush. _Valar help me,_ he thought, _I want to kiss him_. Instead he said softly, “I already knew that.”

Legolas didn’t seem to notice Haldir’s inner turmoil. “We probably should be heading back. After the days we’ve had, you must be longing for the comfort of a bed, and a lover’s embrace. Surely there is someone waiting for you at this very moment.”

Haldir shook his head, forcing himself to look away from the mouth that held so much temptation for him. “No, there is no one.”

“Truly? That surprises me. A handsome stranger like you can’t be wanting for company.”

Haldir had never been coy, but Legolas’s compliment had him blushing like a maid. “I haven’t bedded anyone, not since I arrived here.” _Not since I saw you_.

“That will change soon enough,” Legolas said, apparently under the impression that Haldir needed reassurance. “Geledhil always do well around here; you have the silver hair, the silky accent, and now you have killed your first spider and a trophy to show for it. But if you have no other engagements tonight, perhaps you would like to keep me company. I plan to hide in my rooms and drink myself silly.”

 _I probably shouldn’t_ , Haldir meant to say, but his mouth had other ideas. “I’ll gladly join you for a drink. But I should probably change first, and bathe perhaps--”

“You can do both at my place,” Legolas said with the easy confidence that was innate to royalty. “I’ll have some of your clothes sent to my rooms.”

Haldir wasn’t sure he liked that idea, but when he tried to vocalize his objections, they all seemed irrelevant and rather petty, so he remained silent. After a last, lingering look around the cave, he turned and followed Legolas back the way they had come.

*

“But why doesn’t she like me, Haldir? Why do I like her so much? Why does she wield such power over me?”

Legolas groaned and buried his face in his hands. Drinking seemed to have worsened his pain instead of dulling it, and the more he came apart, the more Haldir found himself groping for reassurances. He too had imbibed quite a lot of wine over the past few hours, lounging in a comfortable armchair in front of a crackling fire, and the longing that had come over him in that cave had only increased, which made it hard to be genuinely sympathetic of Legolas’s suffering.

 _So, here I am,_ he thought ironically, _obeying the king’s orders like a good little soldier. I’ve lent Legolas my ear, I’ve given all the advice I have in me, and Eru help me, I’ll share his bed too if he wants me to. Perhaps I’ll do a better job of that than I have of the other things._

“These feelings are all quite normal, Legolas,” he said, hearing how very unconvincing he sounded. “Unrequited love is always painful, especially the first time, but you will get through it. Everybody experiences it at some point in their lives.”

Legolas reached for the wine bottle, cursing in dismay when he realized it was empty. “Why is there no wine left?”

“I believe you drank the last of it a while ago. Or perhaps I did, I couldn’t say for sure. It’s all a bit fuzzy.”

Legolas slumped back in his chair with a sigh. “Probably for the best. I could drink all the wine in my father’s cellars and feel no better for it. Have you any other suggestions, Haldir?”

“There is no miracle cure for this affliction,” Haldir replied. “You simply have to let it run its course, but I’ve found that it helps to seek distraction. Wallowing, however tempting, won’t accomplish anything.”

“Are you saying that I’m wallowing?” For a moment Legolas looked affronted, but then he started laughing and answered his own question. “Valar, you may be right. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? And yet you have been sitting there listening to my bellyaching for hours on end, when you don’t even know me all that well. I’m really sorry. Let’s talk of something else. Tell me about your homeland, about Lórien. I’ve never been there.”

Haldir frowned. “I don’t want to talk about Lórien.”

“Why not? Do you miss it that much?”

Legolas’s eyes showed genuine concern, so Haldir hurried to respond, “No, you misunderstand. I haven’t been missing it at all, to tell you the truth, not even for a second.”

“Really? How come?”

Haldir shrugged. “I suppose it’s because… I have found so much to enjoy and love here, in Mirkwood.”

“You have?” Legolas gave a smile of surprise that was nothing short of dazzling. “Well, that’s good! If you liked the cave, I’d be happy to show you some other places near and dear to my heart, and maybe one day you can do the same for me in Lórien.”

“I would like that.” Haldir felt a bit feverish and dizzy, but he knew that the wine, however potent, was not to blame for that. “Forgive me, I… I need to--”

He got up with the intention to go for a bit of fresh air, to clear his head, but instead, he felt himself being pulled forward to where Legolas was sitting. Before, in the cave, he had been able to hold himself back, but at this point he had no more control over his body than a puppet on strings, and so he swayed forward and kissed Legolas on the mouth. It was a gentle kiss, quite brief, but it did betray some of the bodily lust that had been simmering in Haldir’s blood for the past few hours. Then he staggered back into his own chair, took a deep breath and waited for the things to come.

Legolas looked appropriately shocked, but not angered. “That was not merely a kiss of comrades, Haldir. How long have you been thinking about doing that?”

“A while. Possibly from the first time I met you, if I’m completely honest.” Haldir sighed. “And since I’m being honest… there is something else I need to tell you. Concerning your father.”

“Ominous words indeed.” Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right, what has he done now?”

“He and I had a truly bizarre conversation a few weeks ago.” Haldir proceeded to recount, in broad strokes, the things Thranduil had said to him the night of the winter feast. Contrary to what he had expected, Legolas’s expression did not change significantly during the telling; if anything, he looked more amused than surprised.

“So when my father gave you this… assignment, how did you react?” he asked when Haldir’s tale was done.

“How any sane person would have reacted. I told him I wouldn’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it isn’t moral!” Haldir sputtered. He had expected a little more outrage. “Your father is a strange man. A great king, without question, and I have no doubt that he loves you as much as he claims, but this is not how a parent--”

These words evoked an unexpected reaction from the prince. “Is that what he said? That he loves me?”

Haldir nodded, puzzled by Legolas’s tremulous tone. “More than life itself, I believe was his phrase. Has he not told you that himself?”

“Not since I was an elfling. Not with so many words.” For a few moments Legolas appeared lost in thought. Then he got up, came over to where Haldir sat and leaned down, bracing his hands on the armrests. “Was it by the king’s command then that you just kissed me?”

Haldir felt a bit trapped, but found he couldn’t look away from Legolas’s face, so close to his own. “No…”

“And this?” Legolas put his hand on the swollen bulge between Haldir’s legs, not doing anything, just letting it rest there. “Is this by the king’s command?”

Haldir gasped for air and shook his head. Valar, he had underestimated just how much Legolas resembled his father, in character as well as in appearance. Creatures of mischief, the both of them!

Legolas smiled. “I thought not. My father is a powerful man, but not _that_ powerful.” When he took his hand away, Haldir felt both relieved and dismayed. “I hope that wasn’t too direct for you, Haldir, for if you were expecting to find me a blushing maid, you’ll be sorely disappointed. I have been bedded before, and I know my way around a man’s breeches.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“Good. Get up.” They were of a height, and once they stood face to face, almost touching but not quite, Haldir knew that this was the point of no return. “Now look at me and tell me what you want, Haldir of Lórien.”

“You,” Haldir blurted. “I want you, but--”

Legolas curled his hands into the front of Haldir’s tunic and kissed him. Not a tender, exploring kiss, but a hard and demanding one, and Haldir was quick to respond in kind. He closed his eyes but opened his mouth, letting Legolas’s tongue inside. There was heat in the kiss, hunger and wine and lust, and Haldir felt his erection twitching in anticipation.

“We probably shouldn’t,” Legolas breathed, even as he pushed Haldir towards the bed. “I don’t want to give that scheming father of mine the satisfaction.”

“Nor I,” Haldir agreed, pulling at the cord that held Legolas’s bathrobe together at the waist. “I can think of so many reasons not to do this.”

“But it would feel so damn good,” Legolas groaned. He shrugged off the robe and stood before Haldir gloriously naked. Not a blushing maid indeed! He was a warrior of excellent stock and he looked the part, strong-limbed and sleek and exuding male confidence. “Ah, bugger it all. My lord father need not know what happens here tonight. I want to see what’s under your clothes, take them off.”

Haldir didn’t have to be told twice. Hurriedly he stripped down to the skin, feeling the heat of Legolas’s gaze traveling across his body, lingering on his chest and on his cock.

“Very appealing indeed,” Legolas said with a smile once he had looked his fill. “My father chose well for me, I can see that. He has not bedded you himself, has he?”

Haldir’s eyes grew wide in shock. “Elbereth, no!”

Legolas laughed and patted Haldir’s cheek in reassurance. “I’m just teasing you. Come here.”

They kissed again, Haldir gently biting Legolas’s lip to punish him for the jest and giving a muffled groan when Legolas nipped him right back and grabbed two handfuls of his rear to pull him close. The tone had been set; they were naked and hard and aching, as sexually charged as two beings could be, and their blood was heated by alcohol. There would be no gentle explorations, no slow buildup; not tonight, not with all this pent-up lust running through their bodies.

They settled on the bed, kissing, stroking, thrusting and probing. There was a bit of a struggle for dominance, but it was Haldir who ended up face down in the furs, readied and stretched by slippery fingers. When Legolas’s cock first entered him, Haldir moaned through gritted teeth, but the discomfort of that initial breach soon faded when Legolas found the right angle. As pleasure started to mount, the pace of Legolas’s thrusting increased quickly, and every time he ground his hips down they groaned in unison. Haldir would have touched himself if he could, but his cock was firmly trapped between his belly and the bed. He was, in fact, utterly helpless in this position, which was not something he particularly minded under these circumstances. So far, Legolas was proving to be a more aggressive lover than Haldir had expected, which was exciting, but he was sure that once the wine and frustration had flushed from his system, things would be somewhat different.

Legolas’s rhythm was becoming erratic, a sure sign that the end was near. One of his hands was gripping Haldir’s shoulder, the other tangled in his hair, and with every thrust Haldir unraveled a little bit more, grunting and rubbing himself desperately against the bed, so great was the need to climax. Finally, with a muffled cry of pleasure, relief almost, Haldir spilled his seed with several powerful convulsions of his body that pulled Legolas over the edge as well. It was glorious, it was exactly what they needed, but Haldir hoped that after this drunken tumble there would be proper lovemaking, with everything that entailed. He hoped that they would have more than this one night.

When they were both finished, Legolas pulled away and collapsed beside him panting. For a while, neither spoke, but once they had caught their breaths Legolas rolled on his side and draped one arm across Haldir’s back. “I’m sorry, I usually last longer than that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Haldir murmured. “We were both in a bit of a hurry, I’d say.”

Legolas smiled. “Practice makes perfect, though, and this was only a first attempt. I would like to try some of my favorite things with you, but sober, so I can enjoy them all the longer.”

“I look forward to finding out what they are.” Haldir shifted position and grimaced. “I made a sticky mess down here, and I’m lying in it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Legolas gave him a surprisingly gentle kiss on the lips before getting up from the bed. “I’ll be back, don’t move.”

Legolas went into the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a bowl of hand warm water and a wash cloth. He knelt on the bed and gave Haldir a gentle wipe down, being a bit more thorough than was strictly necessary, but Haldir wasn’t one to complain. Before long, his body began to respond to Legolas’s skillful ministrations in a way that was all too obvious.

“That is an impressive recovery, Haldir,” Legolas said in a mischievous tone as he stroked Haldir’s shaft with one finger. “Have you been using that powder Tauriel talked about the other day?”

“I haven’t even had time to visit the alchemists yet,” Haldir replied. “You are all the aphrodisiac I need.”

Legolas smiled. “Geledhil and their silver tongues. Let’s find out if this lovely cock is equally good at what it does.” He slicked his hands and took Haldir’s length between them, giving it a few good strokes. Then he positioned himself over it and sank into Haldir’s lap on a long exhale.

Haldir could not look away from the golden creature moving on top of him, without a doubt the most erotic sight his eyes had ever beheld. It was easy to look at Legolas and only notice his beauty, but the prince had many other qualities, as Haldir had discovered over the past few months. He admired Legolas’s physical attributes and prowess in battle, of course he did, but it was the young lord’s cheerful and kind nature that had truly enchanted him. Yet he knew for a fact that he would never have acted on that attraction had not the king himself planted that little seed in his mind.

Legolas was moving faster, rocking back and forth and shifting his weight about until Haldir’s cock was rubbing that hidden spot inside him, the key to every man’s undoing. “Oh yes-- right there!” He threw his head back and uttered a low-pitched cry that went straight to Haldir’s gut. Wanting more than just being along for the ride, Haldir braced his feet flat on the bed and rolled his hips as he thrust upward. When Legolas moaned appreciatively, he did it again, and again, driving himself deeply into that tight, clenching heat. His hands were on Legolas’s thighs, squeezing, guiding. Suddenly they had found that perfect rhythm together, nothing between them but a thin film of sweat, and the staccato slamming of flesh against flesh created a wet slapping sound that was at once obscene and exciting. Haldir closed his eyes, thinking that if he was to die in this bed tonight, at least he would have some good memories to take with him.

“Ahhh... Haldir!” Legolas arched his back sharply, his hand moving rapidly on his own length, and Haldir felt a warm spray on his abdomen and chest. The prince’s inner muscles spasmed and clamped powerfully on his cock, threatening to milk him dry. He bit his lip to distract himself, not wanting to spill just yet, though it took just about every grain of willpower he possessed.

Legolas was flushed and grinning as he gazed down upon the squirming lover between his legs. “Messy,” he said with a look at Haldir’s chest. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t care.” Haldir grabbed Legolas by the shoulders and pushed him down into the furs, unceremoniously claiming the top position. Legolas merely smiled at his urgency, lifting his legs to fold them around Haldir’s waist and putting an arm over his head in a pose of complete submission. It aroused Haldir even more, and he finished with a few hard, satisfying thrusts and a cry loud enough to wake half the realm. Left without strength, he then collapsed into Legolas’s arms.

“Hmm, this is nice,” Legolas murmured as they lay almost heart to heart, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on Haldir's back. “You could become a habit, Haldir. A bad, bad habit.”

Haldir smiled as he nuzzled Legolas’s neck. “If that means more nights of debauchery with you, I’ll not complain.”

“Nor I.” Legolas turned his head to look Haldir in the eye and lifted a hand to caress his cheek. “Thank you for telling me the truth about my father. It makes no difference to me, but I appreciate your honesty. I know he is an intimidating man, and I’m sorry that conversation was such a scarring experience for you.” He chuckled and squeezed Haldir’s bottom teasingly. “But by all the stars, I’m not the least bit sorry for what came out of it.”


	4. A Father's Vow

One of the first things Haldir did when he woke up the following morning was to spare a moment of gratitude for Thranduil's excellent taste in wine. The Mirkwood king imported only the very best barrels, that was a well-known fact, and Haldir had rarely felt this fresh and rested after a night of heavy drinking. He did however have a bone-dry tongue that begged for a sip of water. The only thing stopping him from getting up and rinsing his mouth was the fact that his erection was nestled snugly against Legolas’s backside. Now there was a feeling he could get used to! He sighed and sniffed Legolas’s hair, experiencing a few moments of perfect bliss before his ears picked up a most unwelcome sound: that of another person moving about the room. His eyes flew open.

“Good morning, my prince,” Galion said as he placed a tray on the table, his eyes discreetly avoiding the bed. “The sun is up and the fires are lit. Your lord father expects to see you in his study after you had breakfast.”

“Thank you, Galion,” Legolas murmured sleepily, and the butler left, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Well,” Legolas said with a yawn, “there goes our hope of keeping the secret, unless we murder him in the next five seconds.”

“I fear there was little hope to begin with.” Haldir groaned softly. “Do you think he recognized me?”

“Of course he did. Silver-haired ellyn aren’t exactly thick on the ground in these parts.” Legolas turned around to face him. “Any regrets about our wild night together?”

“Only that we didn’t put the latch on that door. Does Galion bring your breakfast every morning?”

The prince grinned guiltily. “He does, but I wasn’t exactly thinking with my head last night. It completely slipped my mind.”

“I can relate to that.” Haldir brushed Legolas’s chin with his thumb. “Why do you think your father wants to see you?”

“Could be for any number of reasons. I’ll have to go and find out.” Legolas’s hand wandered between Haldir’s legs. “But first, I plan to enjoy this lovely surprise I just found pressed against my posterior, and then we can have a little breakfast in bed. How does that sound?”

*

When Legolas entered his father’s private study later that morning, he found Thranduil seated behind his desk and a mountain of paperwork. It was a familiar sight, one he had known since he was very young, and that mountain never seemed to get any smaller no matter how many hours Thranduil put in day after day, year after year. Now crownless and dressed in a comfortable robe, the king looked up briefly from his work as Legolas crossed the room. “Ah, look who finally rolled out of bed.”

“Galion said you wanted to see me after breakfast,” Legolas calmly retorted. “He didn’t stipulate a time.”

“Fine, fine. I know you had a rough few days hunting those spiders.” Thranduil wrote his signature at the bottom of a document, folded the parchment and dribbled some wax on it. He sealed the letter with the royal insignia and gave it to his clerk. “You know what to do with this, Gothirion. Now leave us.”

Legolas shifted on his feet, trying not to appear too restless, but he wished Thranduil would hurry and make his point. He had the day off - a rare luxury - and he was looking forward to spending it with Haldir. His wandering gaze landed on the life-sized marble busts that watched over Thranduil with lifeless eyes-- the stern-faced grandfather Legolas had never known, the gently smiling mother who had sung him to sleep many a night. The stone from which she had been carved was immaculate and without flaw, as she had been, but it was her voice Legolas remembered most of all, her voice and the melodic sound of her laughter. Other memories had faded over the years, for he had been young when she died. He was often tempted to ask his father to help him remember her, but he had learned early on not to ask about his mother, because of the sadness that came to the king's eyes when he did. Elves loved so intensely and so deeply, and the bond between spouses was a precious thing indeed, but there was a flip side to that coin: the heartrending, never-dimming grief when two souls were brutally torn asunder. Legolas had borne witness to its devastation for more than a thousand years.

Thranduil continued to read and leaf through papers until the clerk had left the room; only then did he sit back and give Legolas his full attention. “Tauriel told me what happened at the spider nest. I suspect she tried to put things in a more favorable light for your sake, but the facts are what they are. At a critical moment during battle, you gave her safety priority over the mission, not only letting those spiders escape but putting your own life in jeopardy. If you have anything to add to that, now would be the time.”

Legolas bit his lip and looked down in contrition. “I am sorry, Ada. It was stupid, I know that. I take full responsibility for those spiders getting away.”

Thranduil sighed and briefly brought his fingers to his forehead. When he continued speaking, his tone was surprisingly gentle. “I am not going to scold you for a few spiders, Legolas, but I am disappointed in you for being so reckless. You can’t take gambles with your life like that, son. You are too important.”

“No more important than any other,” Legolas objected.

“To me, you are. You are my only child, born of my love for your mother. I could not keep her safe, nor your grandfather, but I will not fail with you.” To reinforce the vow, he kissed his wedding ring and touched his heart with the same hand. His tone grew sterner. “I will not waste time debating the matter. You do possess good sense, so use it, or I will have you taken off patrol duty and padded in cushions. Is that understood?”

Thranduil did not play the mother card often, but when he did, Legolas knew that he was trumped. A grown elf he may be, but he craved his father’s approval and affection none the less. “Yes, Ada,” he said softly. “I am truly sorry.”

Thranduil picked up the quill and started writing again. It seemed as though the conversation was finished, but then he said ever so casually, “Galion told me you had company this morning.”

Legolas met his father’s gaze straight-faced. “I don’t have any delusions regarding the discretion of our staff, but why would he tell you that unless you asked him, father dear? No, don’t look so smug. Haldir has told me everything, so I know exactly what you did, and it is quite disgraceful even for you.”

“Clearly the Galadhel hasn’t let that deter him.” Thranduil smiled, entirely without shame or remorse. “The lad had an interest from the start, Legolas. He made a good show of protesting, but he only needed a nudge.”

“So you did us both a favour, is that it?” Legolas shook his head. “I know that you enjoy playing your little games, Ada, and I’m used to them by now, but others are not quite so understanding. People already think you’re odd; when you do things like this it only makes it worse, and I don't want to keep making excuses for you.”

“I don’t expect you to make excuses for me. I never do anything without good reason, you know that. What the rest of the world thinks, is of no importance to me.”

“No indeed.” Legolas sighed. “Whatever your reasons, Ada, please refrain from meddling in my love life in the future. You put both Haldir and me in quite an awkward position.”

“I would never willingly cause you embarrassment,” Thranduil said earnestly. “But it is my duty as a parent to look after your wellbeing, and I’ll continue doing that as long as I draw breath. This time, I felt I had no choice but to intervene.”

“Because you disapprove of Tauriel?”

“As a romantic interest for you, certainly. And recent events prove that I was right to be concerned.” Thranduil dipped the quill in the ink jar and looked Legolas over critically. “You seem cheerful this morning, which is a welcome change. May I assume that the Galadhel acquitted himself well? Did he please you?”

Legolas laughed; try as he might, he could not be angry with that strange, sly father of his. “I’m going now, Ada.” He turned to take his leave.

“Legolas.” Thranduil’s voice changed in tone, grew more serious. “Tauriel said that Haldir saved your life in battle. Tell him that he will always have my gratitude for that, and that the king never forgets a debt that is owed.”

Legolas nodded. “I will.”

“I believe he truly cares for you. I would not have encouraged him if I wasn’t convinced of that, if I didn’t think him a suitable companion for you.”

“I know.” Legolas sighed, impulsively deciding to humour the king. “While I still disapprove of what you did, I will admit that you made an excellent choice, but you must forget I said that immediately. Gloating will not be appreciated.”

“As you say, my boy.” Thranduil gave his son an affectionate smile, one that few people ever got to see. “As long as you’re happy, that is all that matters.”

Legolas paused at the door, hesitating, suddenly reluctant to depart. He was the king’s heir, his guard and his confidant in many matters of state, but he felt he had not been his father’s son for a very long time. And until this moment, he had not realized how much he missed that. “Ada, do you remember how you once taught me to make a little toy boat out of tree bark, twigs and leaves? I used to play with it at the pond, and you would often sit there with me and watch.”

“Of course, _ion nín_ , I remember it very well. You didn’t reach much higher than my elbow then.”

Legolas swallowed down a lump and waited until he trusted his voice again. “When I think of that time, I feel such a loss of what we once were, Ada. Can… can we spend more time together as we used to? Stroll in the gardens and talk, not of politics but of happier, more personal things? I have so many questions about naneth I have never dared to ask for fear of displeasing you.”

Thranduil did not react for a long time. His posture and face betrayed little, and as the silence stretched on and on Legolas’s heart sank with fear that he asked for too much. At long last the monarch replied, “You have every right to ask questions about her, Legolas, and I will answer them to the best of my ability. Never be afraid to speak of the things that occupy your thoughts, even if it does make me sad. Grief should be shared, not hidden away and left to fester.” He glanced at his hands. “Perhaps I have sought refuge in my role as your king and not been the father you needed. Forgive me, son. Yes, we will spend more time together if that is what you wish. I too miss the bond we used to share, for I carry an abiding love for you in my heart, never doubt that. A father’s love for his child is as eternal and as vast as the great wide sea.”

Legolas slowly exhaled, feeling a sudden and overwhelming surge of affection for the man behind that desk, who must be leading such a lonely existence. His ada had been the idol of his youth, strong of arm and wise of heart, tall as a mountain and just as constant. Grief had changed him, without a doubt, but it had not broken him. The shoulders that bore the weight of the realm were broad and yielded to no burden.

“We will talk more later, Legolas,” Thranduil said kindly, seeing that Legolas was struggling to speak. There was a soft glimmer in his usually piercing eyes as well, though his voice was steady, and with an encouraging nod he gently summoned the prince out of the room. “Go on, off with you. Enjoy your day of leisure with the Galadhel and forget everything else. The kingdom will still be here tomorrow-- as will I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> ellyn - male elves  
> Galadhel/Geledhil - elf/elves of Lothlórien  
> leithio i philinn - release the arrows  
> dartho - wait  
> ada - dad, father  
> ion nín - my son  
> naneth - mother


End file.
